Hunt for the Palantíri RPG

[piosenniel]

Rôg flew to the blocked exit and crawled about on the large stones that now filled it. Taking wing once again, he flew back to Luindal, landing softly on his shoulder. ‘I think I can find a way out. It may take some time, but there are small cracks where the edges of the rocks don’t meet. Bat’s can squeeze through some very narrow passages. I’ll get out and fly to the ship for help.’

Luindal brought a torch near the avalanche of boulders and inspected the face of it. He cast a skeptical eye at the bat. ‘Small as you are, these crevices look even smaller.’

‘What else is there to do, my friend?’ returned Rôg. ‘The tide is coming in . . . even now it has crept through the lower crevices in the piled rocks and licks at the soles of your boots. The sea is relentless; you know that well. It will inch in further and higher as the hours wear on. Men and Elves will be picked up and tossed about as it flows in and retreats, again and again. And even those who can manage to float to the top will sooner or later succumb to its frigid waters. We must get help to get out soon.’ He cocked his head to one side as he disengaged his clawed feet from the Elf’s over-tunic. ‘Let me try.’

It was a short glide to where the rocks jammed into the exit of the cavern. Rôg clung to the rough surface of the boulders and then began to carefully crawl about. At last, he found a narrow crack that he could ease himself through, this leading into another search for a further passage. A sense of urgency pushed him forward. He could hear below him, the sea seething low, seeking its way in. At last the scent of the sea air beyond the cavern grew stronger, and the high pitched sounds the little bat had been sending out faded into a clear distance and did not return.

The passageway he’d found grew narrower; it pressed closely on him as he inched forward, his goal in sight. He was almost out. His nose felt the breeze and he brought his leathery wings forward, the claws on them scraping along the ragged surface, pulling him forward. Rôg poked his head out, straining to catch some dim sight of where the Elven ship lay at anchor. He could not see it, but as he cast his gaze to the right, he saw two vague figures go scurrying away . . . like large dark crabs scuttling off along the upper part of the beach . . .

With a last push, he pulled one wing free and then made to free the other one . . . but the crevice had narrowed to a slit on that side and his wing caught on a jagged surface, tearing the thin membrane in a ragged line. Rôg pulled back, he knew the wing was injured enough that he could not fly. Turning carefully around he made his way back toward the cavern. He was bleeding and felt tired, light-headed as he dragged himself through the last passage way. With one final thrust he found himself in the cavern. He raised his little head, trying to focus on the few torches that were still lit. His claws lost purchase and he tumbled from his precarious grasp on the rock surface.

The cold water hit him as he fell. ‘Luindal,’ he cried, changing back to mannish form. ‘Are you near? I could not get through . . .’

[Arry]

Annû was standing with his brother near the blocked cavern exit. He thought that if they could not get out before the water rose, they could at least cling onto the edges of the rocks as the tide came up. And perhaps as the water moved against the obstructing rocks, it might knock a few loose – at least enough for the Elves and Lossoth to push against them and move a few out of the way.

It was a slim chance at best . . . but he could think of no other.

He gasped and stepped back quickly in the now ankle high water in the cavern as something large plopped at his feet. Thinking at first that it might be some part of the cavern ceiling falling down, he yelled for others to watch out, move away from the cavern’s exit. He gasped again as whatever had fallen began to speak. Coming nearer, he recognized the weak voice of the skinchanger. Reaching down a hand, he hauled the man up and called for his brother to help keep him standing. One of Rôg’s arms seemed to have a large, long gash in it and was bleeding profusely.

‘Someone get the Captain and Freyn,’ shouted Carandû, as Galhardir stepped closer with his sputtering torch to give some light.

[Child of the 7th Age]

As soon as Luindal heard the sound of anxious voices coming from the front of the cave, he turned and sprinted forward to where a number of Elves and Lossoth had gathered near the tunnel entrance. A quick look at his friend confirmed that something had gone very wrong. The small bat had disappeared and, in its place, was a familiar human form. Rôg's face looked ashen. He cradled his arm against his body, with blood still flowing from the wound. The shapechanger was no longer standing but had slipped to the ground, the water washing against his legs. Annû sat beside him, helping to prop him up. Freyn rushed forward to kneel beside his patient and triy to tend the wounds.

"Of all the devilry!" Luindal exclaimed. "I should never have let you go. What mischief has happened to you?"

"The rocks. The rocks were packed too tight. I came within a hair's breadth. I could even see outside, but I could not push through." The sadness and frustration in Rôg's voice were evident.

"Could you see anything? Is anyone about to help us?"

"I thought I saw two shadows flit by, but whether these were men or beasts, I do not know. And even if Men, they seemed to be leaving the shore."

In his desire to aid his friend, Rôg made a feeble effort to rise but then slumped against Annû's arm. Reaching out a hand and placing it on Rôg's shoulder, Luindal spoke, "Rest friend, but do not give up hope. We will figure out something to get us out of this quandry." He spoke loudly and clearly so that all his companions could hear. Then he drew away from the group, walking alone to the back of the cave, and found a quiet cove where he could sit and think. Luindal crouched down, putting his fingers to his temple and began to concentrate, drawing up an image of the ship and the Elves who had stayed behind. I should have thought of this before, but I am no Noldor or one of the ancient ones who is used to having so much on my head. I will just have to do the best I can. Let us hope that these walls are not impenetrable...... Hear me, then, Thalion, my companion from the woods of Lorien. This is Luindal. The men and I are trapped in the cave with great rocks blocking our path. Bring ropes and a winch and volunteers to dig. Come soon or we may perish in the wild waters of the Bay, which threaten to overwhelm us.

With that he turned and waited......

[Arry]

Annû was right – as the tide rose, pounding onto the land with greater force, it loosened the large rocks that had cascaded down in front of the cavern’s entrance. He and his brother had climbed up to the top of the small entrance, onto an overhanging ledge which jutted out just above it, and two other of the Elves along with Galhardir had fount foot holds up the cavern wall that surrounded the opening. They doused their hardwood brands, leaving the feeble light of those others that still had enough fuel to remain lit to be held up near the entrance so that they might see what they were doing.

The tide water was waist high now for those on the cavern floor, and they clung to ropes secured to some of the bigger, taller rocks in the cavern to keep them from being tumbled over as the tide seethed in and out. Annû, Galhardir and the other two Elves wedged their brands into the crevices of the upper rock pile. Carrandû lay flat on his stomach with his brand abutting the face of one of the top rocks. As the tide fled out, the lower parts of the pile grumbled, and groaned, and scraped against each other as the water pulled on them. With a mighty effort the four Elves and Lossoth man strove to move the top rock. Five times they heaved their strength against it, and on the fifth it teetered and crashed into the waiting sea below.

Late afternoon light flooded in through the small hole and the keen eyes of Carrandû could see the waters of the bay and the place where their ship was anchored. ‘Captain!’ he cried nearly tumbling himself from the ledge. ‘I can just see two longboats filled with crew from the ship. They row mightily with the tide and should be here within the hour.’ A cheer of relief came up from those below. ‘Annû motioned for the group to squeeze up on the ledges above the frigid water. ‘Huddle together – Galhardir says. It will be of little help for our mates to arrive for the rescue if most of us have frozen to death in water.’

Galhardir nodded his head as those on the ledges threw down ropes to help those still in the rising water clamber up. Soon, wet and dripping, the lot were up above the waters, crouching together. One of the Elves, a slender fellow, eyed the small hole left by the rock. He shed his bulky outer garments and squeezed through to the outside. Freyn handed over a large strip of cloth he had brought for bandages and the Elf used it as a signal flag.

Catching sight of one of their own hailing them, the Elves in the longboats bent forcefully to their task, their oars cleaving the waves as they hastened to their companions.

[piosenniel]

Rôg breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the sunlight found its way into the darkness of the cavern. His left arm wasn’t hurting as badly as it had been, or so it seemed. It had stopped bleeding, thanks to the bandage and herbs Freyn had applied, and if truth be told, the man from the South was so cold that he really couldn’t tell any longer if it pained him or no. Luindal and another of the Elves had dragged him up to a ledge, safe from the waters below. The injured Elf woman was there also, her brother crouched down close to her, trying to keep her warm.

The loose rock on the ledge was beginning to dig into his right side, and he sat up hoping to ease that discomfort. His head spun a little as he did so, and he would have fallen from the ledge save for the Elf Luindal had stationed to keep watch over him. From his vantage point he could see the two Elf brothers and the Lossoth who had been searching with them. They were all still engaged in trying to clear the fallen rock from the entrance. Rôg found it interesting to consider how so much rock had fallen so neatly in front of the cavern’s entrance. Surely they could not have just decided to all let loose their moorings and come tumbling down . . . and if it had been some quaking of the earth, why hadn’t they felt it more strongly in the cavern . . . wouldn’t the ground beneath their feet have been trembling, cracks open, and the rocks in the cavern fall down?

In the back of the cavern, he noted there was a small group of Elves and several of the Lossoth. Two of the Elves were talking in an animated manner, the one holding the lit brand gesturing wildly with it – pointing often toward the water. Rôg could see the looks on the faces of the other Elves and Lossoth concerned were grim. ‘What is going on down there?’ he asked of the Elf near him. The Elf climbed down to the floor on the cavern, the water was now mid-thigh as he made his way to where Rôg had pointed.

Rôg could see two of the Elves at the back put their arms about the one who had been gesturing and drag him gently, but firmly, away from the area. They were shaking their heads in a resigned manner. As they moved out of the way, Rôg could see the three Lossoth all in each others’ arms, looking as if they were about to wail. And indeed an eerie keening sound began, spiraling round the cavern in sorrowful waves. Luindal could be seen hurrying toward where the commotion had begun. Rôg could see him speaking quietly to the Lossoth and to the stricken Elf.

‘It is as I feared,’ said Rôg’s companion as he climbed back up to where the skinchanger sat. The Elf’s face was grim, lined with sadness. ‘The rising tide has completely flooded the smaller caverns that lead off the main cave. In the darkness and the confusion of the rockslide, we did not notice that two of the searchers had gone missing. One of the crew, and the Lossoth who was his search partner never came out of the back cavern they had gone down into. With the water this high, their cavern will be flooded. We cannot reach the Elf with our thoughts. He is gone. And the Lossoth, too is surely lost . . .’

Rôg’s heart lurched . . . surely he had gone down that tunnel and warned those two . . . there had been so many . . . he had tried to be careful . . . this could not be . . .

There were cries from the front of the cavern. Annû was waving wildly at those away from the cavern’s entrance. His brother had seen the long boats tie up to the large rocks near the cave. The crew were already climbing the rocks that blocked the cave’s entrance, tools in hand . . .

‘They are here!’ cried Carrandû in a loud voice. The sounds of the crew and their implements could be heard working at the stony impasse . . .

[Orofaniel]

Galhardir was somewhat relieved, although he knew it wasn't over yet. He'd heard Carandû's voice calling out that they would soon be out of the cavern, but Galhardir could know nothing for certain. He wondered what Rodhal was doing at the ship and if he'd noticed how the tide had come over them all of a sudden. He wouldn't know the consequences of it though, would he?

All of them stood close each other on ledges. Galhardir could feel the rocks beneath his feet a bit unsteady, but they would manage to hold him for some time. The water became higher and higher for every minute, although it would still take some time until it reached them.

Galhardir wondered if they had overlooked anything while they walked in the tunnels. What if they had? What if the thing they were looking for had been just beneath their very noses, and they hadn't found it. How dreadful. Had the whole day been in vain? Had the crew been looking for something that wasn't really there after all? This made Galhardir confused and rather annoyed. He should probably never have gotten himself into this.

Then another thought rushed into his head; how had these rocks suddenly blocked their way in front of the entrance? How was that possible? Galhardir could recall hearing any big rocks falling down from anywhere while he walked the tunnels. Yet, this could be the situation, but he somehow doubted it.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Luindal had been the last to seek safety on the ledge. At first he had been wholly occupied by the pressing need to find a means of escape for his companions. After making sure his message had reached the Elves who remained behind on the Spirit, he had darted back and forth, making sure that Freyn attended to all the injured and that everyone was safely removed from the frigid waters.

At his suggestion, the Elves and Lossoth had strapped ropes about their waists, linking themselves together in groups of two or three. Once the rocks gave way, there would be a rush of water, and it would not do to have the smallest or weakest pushed under by the pounding waves. They would stand a better chance if they linked arms and helped each other to push through against the rushing water.

Now all he could do was sit and wait. Outiside, he could hear the welcome sound of picks and hands clawing away at the thick wall of stone and rubble imprisoning them, and watched as his own crew attempted to push out the stones from inside with some success. The water below now looked to be some four feet deep. They would need to move quickly when the last stone fell.

Yet still knawing at the back of Luindal's mind was the grim scene that had occurred earlier inside the tunnel. He had extended his thoughts outward and touched one of the Elves, trapped with his Lossoth companion inside a narrow cleft of rock with the water relentlessly pouring in. One instant, there had been a quavering response laden with fear, and the next, nothing: only emptiness and shadow. To leave behind two companions in a watery grave seemed a hard thing indeed when they had only been here for less than a day.

A thundering crash put an abrupt halt to these ruminations. Outside, two boulders had been pried loose and heaved aside from the entrance so that the hole was large enough for a man ofr Elf to get through as long as he bent low, crouching near the ground. The waves surged forward with great force, but close behind came a familiar Elvish voice. The next moment, one of the rescuers stood firm inside the cavern amid the swirling waters, urging them to spring down from the ledge and come forward to leave the cave as quickly as they could. In groups of two and three, they approached the opening and crawled through with difficulty, coughing and spluttering, as the waves beat rhythmically against the walls of the cavern. After a time, each one managed to push their way through to the outside. Thoroughly cold and drenched, they waited for the longboats to bear them to the safety of the ship.